Troy straightens up. “Sorry, yes. Ready when you are.”
twenty-eight
patton
Are You Waiting For A Meteor Shower!?
It’s not an Indian wedding if there’s no dancing.
And by that, I don’tjustmean hitting the dance floor custom-built for a former MLB player and his new wife’s wedding on a private beach in Cabo with tiki torches and a fully stocked open bar, because there’s plenty of that. I mean, full-blown choreographed routines done by the groom and his best friends and the bride and her best friends.
That’s right. I’m happy to say that tonight, I checked that off my bucket list as well.
I wouldn’t say dancing comes naturally to me, but given my time in Hollywood and having made more than a few films where I had to dance, I thought I knew my way around a stage.
Fuck, was I wrong.
Turns out the form of dance the choreographer taught us,bhangra, isn’t just jumping around with our arms up. It tests your core strength and makes your legs feel like jelly.
But seeing the look on everyone’s face, especially the only woman I’ve had my eyes on all night, made a week of learning the damn dance worth it.
Unlike our high-energy dance, which Dean insisted we fuel with shots of what tasted like gasoline, the girls’ routine was alot more graceful. Sarina never said it outright, but I could tell she purposely chose the softer movements with Nisha in mind, making sure her sister never felt left out and could participate without any stress.
And now, I watch my ex-wife from the bar where my friends are congregated, drinks in hand. The tattooed sleeve, that mid-thigh gold dress hugging every curve, and that ebony hair waving softly in the wind all makes her impossible to miss, and impossible to wonder what she’s wearing underneath.
She’s still on the dance floor, swaying to a Bollywood song spun by the DJ. He’s no ordinary DJ, either. Troy flew in the world-famous Logan Miller, better known as DJ Access. The guy sells out arenas, so I can only imagine what it took to book him for this wedding.
My eyes stay glued to my breathtaking wife, who’s laughing at something Piper has said. Yeah, I know. But it’s just a matter of time till that “ex” portion of her title is dropped, so it makes sense I refer to her as my wife, at least in my head.
“You okay there, big guy?” Dean asks Hudson, who’s quietly sipping his drink, eyes locked on his wife on the dance floor. “Are your old joints hurting after all thatbhangra? Want me to flag down a server with some Icy Hot? I think I saw an extra walker somewhere, too. It had a pretty cool cup holder, so I thought of you.”
Hudson takes a slow sip of his drink, eyes never straying from his wife. “Bold words coming from the guy who walked over to my room earlier to ask me to unscrew his wife’s Stanley travel mug.”
“That was a one-time thing! I told you my hands were slippery; I’d just used them to lube myself.”
Hudson doesn’t even flinch, just shakes his head because no reaction is the best reaction when it comes to Dean.
Chuckling and knowing he’ll never get a rise out of Hudson, Dean swings an arm around Troy. “Man, I can’t believe you’re married. Fuckingmarried! I’m so happy for you, bro. And that ceremony was beautiful. Seriously, this was the best day of my life.”
“The best day of your life wastoday?” Dev asks, eyebrow raised. “AtTroy’swedding? Not your own?”
Dean rears back like he’s dealing with lunatics. “Of course, the happiest day of my life was my own wedding day; I married a goddess. But, fuck man, you can’t just have one happiest day, you know? It would be like saying only one of you is my best friend, which would be completely ridiculous.”
Hudson lifts his glass. “I’m sure Mala will be thrilled sharing the top spot with Troy’s wedding.”
Dean shrugs. “There are many things on my happiest day list, bro. Like the day I was born, though it was short-lived once I realized I had to share it with this asshole here.” He jerks a thumb at Garrett, who flips him off. “Along with the birth of each of my kids—also on the happiest day list. And, of course, that one day when I orgasmed for almost an hour straight.”
“Jesus Christ.” Darian pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t we go one day without a reminder of your dick, Dean?”
“Because, little brother, my dick deserves to be remembered, memorialized even . . . unlike yours.”
Troy grimaces. “I assume you ended up inside a hospital.”
Dean grins. “Nah. I ended upinsidemy wife.”
I drain the last of my bourbon, setting my glass on the bar. “And this is why you weren’t allowed to give a speech.”
“Bro, you’re all just jealous because you can’t say the same.”
